The Diplomat

It really was too early in the morning for this sort of nonsense, fourth year Ravenclaw Anjali Kumar thought tiredly to herself, buttering her toast half-heartedly as her eyes trailed down the Gryffindor table to find her cousin and his friends at the center of the commotion. It seemed that Sirius Black, her cousin's best friend, had slipped a potion in his pumpkin juice, or perhaps hexed him with a rather innocuous spell, for atop James' head were a pair of elegant antlers that had sprouted quite spontaneously through his messy, jet black mop of hair. Both boys were laughing uproariously, as was their other friend, Peter Pettigrew, along with most of Gryffindor table. Even the ordinarily shy Remus Lupin was grinning broadly, saying something Anjali couldn't hear that was apparently very funny, because the four boys shook with mirth as he finished.

The rest of the hall, Anjali included, were far less tickled by this turn of events. Yes, Anjali admitted to herself, the sight of James with those ridiculous antlers on his head was rather amusing, but it certainly didn't warrant the level of noise it had elicited at barely seven in the morning, during the first week of term. The prank, while entertaining, lacked the creativity of a particularly inspired trick; there was nothing really clever about it at all. Then again, she thought wryly, Gryffindors weren't exactly known for their dazzling wit.

"Really," groaned Anjali's friend, Henrietta Silverfoot, glaring over at the rowdy group of students, "People who can be that happy this early in the morning oughtn't to exist."

Over at the Hufflepuff table, Head Girl Alice Chang seemed to agree.

"Oi, Potter, Black!" She shouted, an unusually grumpy expression on her normally cheerful round face. "Shut up, will you? Some of us haven't had enough coffee to handle your nonsense yet!"

The boys turned to grin good-naturedly to her. "Oh, come on, Alice, you know you love us," James called, beaming.

Alice, who despite the difference in age and house did indeed know the boys well due to her relationship with the now-graduated Gryffindor Frank Longbottom, simply rolled her eyes. "Just keep it down, at least until it's a more reasonable time, I'm begging you."

It was perhaps only the affection all four boys shared for the well-liked Hufflepuff, who was perhaps the surrogate elder sister to most of Gryffindor House given the amount of time she used to spend with Frank in their common room, that convinced them to do her bidding; that and the warning glance from Professor McGonagall from the staff table that conveyed in no uncertain terms that she wasn't above giving them detention for being loud at such an obscene time in the morning. Anjali felt a quick jolt of amusement at that—even their no-nonsense Transfiguration professor couldn't quite handle the troublemakers before eight in the morning.

"Right you are, Al," Sirius grinned and winked, waving his wand and removing those ridiculous antlers from James' head.

Commotion over, Anjali turned back to her toast, only half-listening to the conversation around her.

"Honestly," Henrietta was saying, "There is going to be nothing worse than having Double Herbology with the Gryffindors first thing in the morning." She shook her head. "They're just exhausting."

"Speak for yourself," mumbled Ifeoma Okoye, Anjali's other best friend. "I have Ancient Runes with Slytherins on Friday afternoons, last class of the week. It's like they're all afraid they haven't been cruel enough to reach their quota by then, so they're making up for it in that one period."

Both Henrietta and Anjali winced sympathetically. It wasn't that they hated all the Slytherins, by any means—it was just that the ones in their year were particularly bad, with such unsavory characters as Severus Snape and Celsus Mulciber, and no redeeming classmate to save their peers' reputation. The year above them, at least, had level-headed, mild-mannered Avila Desmond, who had proven she was not above taking points from her own house with her newfound power as a Prefect, and below them was third year Regulus Black, who, granted, wasn't quite the rebel his brother had proven to be, but who curbed his friends' more discriminatory tendencies with a sly word or a quick distraction.

"What do we have this morning, then?" Asked Anjali, determinedly forcing down a yawn by chewing on her toast.

"Double Herbology," Henrietta repeated slowly, sending Anjali a wry look. "With the Gryffindors. You really don't function this early, do you?" She teased. "You know, if anyone needed a good boost of energy in the mornings, it's you."

"Laugh it up, Hettie," Anjali said, trying not to yawn again but failing miserably this time. "We can't all be addicted to caffeine."

"Or sunlight," Ifeoma added, eyeing the fourth year Gryffindor boys enviously. "I swear, those boys are solar powered."

"It's a little odd, actually," Anjali murmured, taking a sip of her water. "It usually takes James ages to wake up in the mornings. I've never seen him this sprightly before ten."

Both her friends gave a little start. "That's right," Hettie said with a mildly surprised blink. "I keep forgetting you live with him."

"It's hard enough to believe that you're cousins," Ifeoma added. "You both are so different."

It was true—hardly anyone would observe Anjali Kumar and James Potter at school and conclude that they were related in any way. James was brash and loud, with a penchant for mischief and a talent for troublemaking. He was popular among the school, well known even to older students thanks to his and his friends' more dramatic practical jokes. He was also, Anjali was reluctant to admit, slowly becoming a bit of an arrogant bully, his already swelled head growing larger thanks to his spectacular win in the last Quidditch match of their third year, where he scored a goal right as Hufflepuff's Seeker caught the Snitch, putting Gryffindor just ten points ahead as the game ended. As family, Anjali loved him to bits regardless, but even she had to acknowledge the downright unbearable smugness in James' cocky attitude was becoming too much.

Anjali was the opposite of her extraverted cousin. Well, not quite the opposite, exactly—more like his natural foil, the anti-James, so to speak. Or perhaps she was someone he might have been, in a different life. She was quiet and kept to herself, with just Ifeoma and Hettie to count as close friends. She wasn't unpopular, or ever the object of anyone's ire; rather, she was mostly unseen, often slipping into anonymity as her cousin attracted attention. She was polite for the most part, unless someone really deserved a good dressing down, in which case she wasn't above the odd surreptitious jinx or hex. She was smart, yes, but as a Ravenclaw that was already a stereotypical expectation for her to meet, and she wasn't nearly so flashy about her brains as James or Sirius or even earnest Lily Evans.

Despite their starkly different personalities, however, James and Anjali got along like a house on fire. Anjali's placid nature and quiet wit endeared her to her more outgoing cousin, who likely would have felt the need to compete with a more hotheaded, confrontational family member; he had, after all, lived as an only child for the first eight years of his life. Granted, when Anjali first came from India to live with her aunt, James had resented her. He had been used to being the center of attention in the mansion, and he'd hated her for threatening his perfect world, especially since at first he hadn't known the terrible circumstances that led to his cousin's sudden appearance in his life. But Anjali had grown up with three siblings before they'd died, and she was used to sharing the spotlight; so the two cousins stopped butting heads within a year and quickly became thick as thieves.

On a superficial level, they shared their grandfather's thin nose and messy black hair, as well as their great-grandmother's long face; but few students looked past the almond brown skin tone that marked them both, and most of them were loathe to ask either one of any familial ties, for fear of sounding racist. It therefore simply wasn't a well known fact at Hogwarts that the loudmouth Gryffindor and unremarkable Ravenclaw were family, though neither James nor Anjali attempted to hide it, and most students seemed to conclude that due to their vastly different personalities, they couldn't possibly be related. Hettie and Ifeoma knew, of course, as did James' friends, and she supposed the more observant students scattered through the years who'd seen them interact at meals and in the halls knew as well, but for the most part, the young witch never found herself associated with her troublemaking cousin.

"We ought to go to the greenhouses now," Hettie said, checking her watch, pulling Anjali out of her thoughts. "No need to give Sprout any more reason to hate Anjali."

"She doesn't hate me," Anjali protested. "She just recognizes that my talents are better served outside her class, that's all. Besides, I'm determined to do much better this year, just you wait."

"Don't know if that's possible, considering how you ended last year spilling Stinksap all over Greenhouse Two," chortled Ifeoma. "I've never seen Sprout lose her patience that quickly."

Anjali groaned, but got to her feet anyway. "Don't remind me," she sighed, "I can't wait to drop that infernal class. I'm sure Professor Sprout will be just as relieved as I when I fail that OWL next year and can't accidentally kill all her plants anymore."

Still, despite her embarrassment over her truly miserable performance in Herbology, Anjali had to admit it was sort of dramatically entertaining when Professor Sprout seemed to visibly wilt at the mere sight of her; it seemed that she, Hettie, and Ifeoma were the first three to arrive. The stout, kindly woman let out a long suffering sigh as the young Ravenclaw accidentally knocked into a potted Puffapod and caught it, cursing, before it could shatter on the ground. Unfortunately, the poor Puffapod shrank into itself, the vibrant colors dulling at a mere touch of Anjali's hand.

"Er—sorry, Professor," she said sheepishly as she placed the plant back on its shelf, decidedly less reserved than usual around the Professor that most certainly had seen the very worst of her. There was no point, she rather felt, in hiding behind her quiet demeanor, not when her flaws had already been borne. Funny, really, that the Professor who knew her best was the one whose class she was closest to failing.

"Miss Kumar," said Sprout resignedly, "I suppose it would be too much to hope that you'd managed to keep your Valerian plant alive this summer?"

Anjali grimaced. "It lasted about two weeks," she said regretfully. "I even named her Amrita, after the nectar of immortality in Hindu mythology, but alas! She succumbed to that most mysterious inevitability. I did manage to save the roots for my potions supplies, though," she added, more cheerfully, "And I gave poor Amrita the most lovely funeral."

"And you claim you're not dramatic," muttered Ifeoma under her breath. "All of a sudden, the family resemblance is clear."

"Perhaps if you had spent more time caring for the plant instead of naming it, you might have had more success in keeping it alive," said Professor Sprout tartly.

Anjali couldn't deny the logic there—James had told her as much when she barged into his room with an uncharacteristic lack of composure, demanding an explanation for why her poor plant had died. (He'd still helped her with the funeral, even reading a eulogy as Anjali stood by, holding back tears). Properly chastised, she sat down in her seat and pulled out her textbook and faux-dragonhide gloves, waiting with Ifeoma and Hettie for the rest of the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors to filter in.

A mere ten minutes later, everyone was in attendance, all nine Gryffindors and eleven Ravenclaws in the fourth year. Professor Sprout called through roll quickly, not waiting for any responses and instead just looking up to confirm the right people were in her class, before clearing her throat briskly and announcing that this year, they would be caring for their plants and doing all of their practical assignments in groups of three, with one pair.

A part of Anjali wondered if Professor Sprout was doing this to curb the amount of destruction she could cause in the greenhouse by herself—but she quickly decided that if she was really that hopeless, she'd best remain oblivious to it, and anyway, it was rather self-centered of her to assume she had anything to do with it at all.

Professor Sprout quickly lumped students together, sending Ifeoma to work with Paul Hartley and Mary Macdonald, and Hettie to Gryffindors Remus Lupin and Siobhan O'Malley. Anjali herself was put with the unbearable Preston Pucey from her house, though luckily she also got James in her group. Her cousin looked distinctly put out by this turn of events, and Anjali had to admit that he'd drawn the short straw, as they both knew just how terrible Anjali was at Herbology, and nobody could stand Preston's uniquely pompous self-image.

"Right, then, is everyone alright?" Professor Sprout asked, perhaps not anticipating an answer to the contrary.

"Sorry, Professor," came a nasally voice from the corner, and Anjali craned her neck to see Daisy Barker, one of the girls who shared her dorm, raising her hand. She was a notorious gossip who was obsessed with James, much to Anjali's endless amusement and her cousin's constant revulsion. Daisy, fancying herself in love with the rich heir to the Potter fortune, rather hated Lily Evans as a result, for it was no secret that James was infatuated with the ginger Muggleborn. And of course, it was just Daisy's luck that she was paired with the object of her crush's affections, with no third person to offset the imagined tension.

"Yes, what is it, Barker?" Said Sprout impatiently.

"Unfortunately, Lily and I can't work together," Daisy said, briefly pausing in the impassioned delivery of a venomous glare in Lily's direction in favor of adopting an air of great, simpering disappointment. For her part, Lily Evans looked mildly bemused but unaffected, as if she had no idea why Daisy disliked her and truly could not find it in herself to care. "She's got a cat, see, and I'm terribly allergic—the fur on her robes—"

"Yes, yes, alright," Sprout said. "Any group of three volunteer to switch?"

James sat up straight, and Anjali watched him out of the corner of her eye, equal parts offended and resigned. His hand shot up in the air and he practically shouted, "My group can!"

(Daisy Barker seemed to think James was enthusiastic for her benefit and not Lily's, and fluttered her eyelashes at him, giggling).

Here we go, Anjali thought to herself, bracing herself. Goodbye, any chance I had of getting an E this year. Between her, Preston Pucey, and Daisy Barker, she doubted greatly that they could even identify the right plants, let alone care for them.

Professor Sprout peered over the top of her glasses, assessing their group. "Very well," she said. "Barker, go switch places with Kumar."

Anjali's heart leapt—Lily Evans was supposed to be quite good at Herbology, and it certainly beat the potential team of Pucey, Barker, and Kumar.

"Ye—Wait, what?" James cried, hazel eyes flashing with horror. "Kumar? You mean, Anjali?"

"Yes, Potter."

"But—"

"No buts, Potter."

"I—"

"Enough, Potter, one more attempted argument and its ten points from you," Sprout said fairly but sternly, and that was the end of that. "Kumar, Barker, get to it. We haven't got all day."

Hardly daring to believe her luck, Anjali quickly packed up her stuff and went to sit next to Lily Evans, ignoring the annoyed, envious look James was directing at her back. Serves him right, she thought a little gleefully, for putting a potential in with Lily over helping out his favorite cousin. That'll show him!

Lily seemed relieved that it wasn't James or Preston coming to sit with her but rather the quiet Ravenclaw she'd never quarrelled with. It wasn't that Anjali and Lily were close—on the contrary, they'd rarely spoken with each other over the years—but they shared a mutual relief for having each other as a Herbology partner. Anjali suspected Lily had no clue how truly awful she was at the subject, or else she might look a little more apprehensive, but, eager to leave a good impression, the Ravenclaw girl gave her a quick, warm smile, sitting down next to her and pulling out her book.

It would be years before Anjali pinpointed that very moment as the instant her life had changed forever.